


Kankri Vantas ==> Let It All Out

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Humanstuck, Kinda maybe idk, Porrim Maryam (mentioned) - Freeform, Sadstuck, This is basically a vent fic, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 00:54:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5313908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're glad no one's around to hear you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kankri Vantas ==> Let It All Out

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. More vent fics. No surprise there.  
> God Jinx write something upbeat and happy or continue one of your other fanfics! I am actually gonna upload a few cutesy one shots eventually, just not right now lmao.  
> I chose to write this as Kankri's problems because I feel as if I relate to him the most and that he'd deal with (or well not deal with) problems like this in the same way.

It was supposed to be perfect. Everything was supposed to be perfect, and yet, here you were, sitting alone, in an empty classroom, by yourself.

_"Are you okay?"_  
_"Do you want to talk about it?"_  
_"I'll be here for you."_

They were such empty words. No, you weren't okay at all. Breathing properly was hard and every time you inhaled, your throat hurt and you felt terrible without having any inkling as to why. Yes, you wanted to talk about it. Who wouldn't? You couldn't though. You couldn't talk about something that you yourself don't even understand.

You wanted to curl up into a ball and just stopped existing and disappear into nothingness. You wanted to cry yourself to sleep and obsess over the little things in life you managed to mess up.

But...

You just couldn't.

You wouldn't allow yourself to feel so weak for even a second... 

You didn't ask for much. Just for everything to stop for just a few minutes so that you could sort things out but it wouldn't and you can't and you absolutely hate it. You have no idea as to why, and, thinking about it now, you probably never will, but it's tearing you apart, piece by piece either way. 

To not have all these stupid problems which every now and then render you useless and unwanted by everyone was the only thing you wanted now. Why did these problems choose you to be their host? You never asked for this. You never asked to be like this at all. So why? It's unfair. You have a life to live, just live anyone else, and you can't do it properly because your that much of a mess.

Is it because you don't tell anyone?

Everyone else who has problems has probably either told their family or their school or other people and yet you... You just keep it bottled up. If you tell someone will they help? The thought is stupid because you know the answer. And you know that you know the answer.

The answer is yes. Yes, people will help you if it's made known to them that you have these problems that need addressing to. Surely that's making them help you then and then you'd feel worse. Like you were demanding their attention since you were so incapable of managing yourself properly. 

It just like a huge tidal wave; you just can't stop it or hold it back at all. It drowns you in emotions you don't want to feel.

People say they know how you feel, and while you smile and say they probably do, you know deep down that they really don't. They lie straight to your face and it's like they don't even care they're doing it at all. Not in the slightest.

It's frustrating that's what it is. All of it is just so frustrating. You need to get this out in the open and sorted out and not be so stupid. 

You're a smart person and maybe that's one of the reasons why you hate it so much. Because you can't find an answer to any of this, no matter how hard you try or how hard you search. The answers are always just a tiny bit out of reach. It's how your were brought up you supposed. All these smiles and all this confidence and everything else, they're all built on lies. Lies because you have this dreadful feeling thay you'll never live up to any of the expectations given to you back when you were younger.

They're too much. They're too much for you to handle. You break down at such small things that it's terrifying, just bursting to tears and confusion at random. You can't seem to help yourself at all. You need help but won't ask for it. 

You can't.  
You won't.  
You refuse.

That's being selfish. That's making others have to look after you and if anything, that's the thing you want the least. That's just too selfish.

You do everything you can and yet it's still apparently not good enough for you to have one single moment of happiness or joy in your life that I can look back on and think that you did a good job on? It's terrifying and you're scared. So. Scared. Of not knowing. Of not being able to figure it out...

It hurt...

You feel tears begin to fall from your eyes and it's like a relief off of your shoulders to be able to cry so easily. Once they start they just can't stop. They won't stop.

With words of hatred towards yourself repeating in your head over and over again, you've never felt better as the tears are let out in loud gutteral sobs. You're glad no one's around to hear you.

It feels like hours, even days, the amount you cried, but you know in reality is wasn't more that 20 minutes if the lunch bell hadn't rung yet, signalling you to get your ass of the ground of the music room and to your English literature class, ready to study the story of undying love and woe of that of Juliet and her Romeo.

Drying your eyes, you get up and calmly collect yourself, leave the room, and go to your class.

Porrim asks if you've been crying and you tell her to not be silly. Why would you be crying? She was just imagining your eyes were still red from the tears. You get on with your work and the lunch time fiasco was quickly forgotten.

After all, why would you be crying in the first place? Your life was great. You had a family, friends, and education, and most importantly, you were still alive. Surely, everything was perfect.

**You know that perfectly well, right?**


End file.
